Before It All Went to Hell
by roflcopterskates
Summary: I don't even know, this might be a oneshot but I might write more about it? Basically just Nickrophilia and a more badass Rochelle because I hate reading stuff where she's so freaking helpless. If you like it and want me to expand on this and keep going just tell me in your review. I'm seriously considering it. My first L4D2 fic. Not entirely pleased but hey good for my first go.


"We're almost there!" Rochelle exclaimed from the back of the group. Crossing the entire length of the bridge proved to be a difficult task, and she had taken quite a beating. Every step made the pain swell like new. She could feel her heart pounding, blood circulating in every limb, but she fought her way through as best she could, and did a damn good job at it. She was still alive, wasn't she?

Rochelle tried so hard to keep her game face on, make sure everyone thought she was feeling fine, despite the aches. She was so close and there wasn't a single infected in sight. They were in the home stretch; and getting this far, the last thing she wanted was help walking.

She fell further and further behind from the team, and no one noticed. They were all too elated to see the helicopter coming closer; _They_ were coming closer.

First into the copter was Ellis, followed by Nick and Coach. And then they noticed Rochelle.

Quite a distance between them.

They all yelled and hollered her name, cheering her on, hiding their anxiety behind broken smiles and hollow words. Another horde could be coming any second, it was way too quiet. How long would the pilot wait? We should have paid more attention. Hurry up, Rochelle before something terrible happens.

In the distance, they could hear the worst coming.

Their cheering fell silent as the Tank's bellow echoed throughout the empty bridge. Rochelle's eyes widened in fear and started limping faster, the pains more acute and direct.

All of them were frozen, unsure what to do. Their safety was guaranteed. Should we go back to save her? Do we even stand a chance? Does Rochelle want us to save her?

The ground started shaking as the Tank drew closer. She wasn't strong enough to stay on her feet and collapsed on the asphalt.

Nick stared in frustrated confusion.

"Every man for himself, Nick," He thought. "Trust no one, Nick."

Rochelle pulled out her M-16 and shot wildly at the Tank, who was now in plain sight. Her aim was exceptionally bad. She was too exhausted to hold the gun in place during the knockback of each shot, and considering she wasn't strong enough to pull herself off the ground made it harder. But damn did she fight it.

Nick continued to watch, wholly consumed by the fascination of the events unfurling in front of him.

He couldn't make up his damn mind and even worse he couldn't stop watching.

As much as he hated to admit it, he trusted Rochelle.

He was fond of her.

A little too fond.

…Fonder than he'd like to admit.

But was he seriously going to risk his own life to go back and save her when they all knew she was screwed no matter what?

Before he could even finish thinking he felt his legs moving without his consent. He was out of the copter, running towards Rochelle and the Tank, who, by now, had her in its massive hands, thrashing her fragile body against the cement.

Coach and Ellis watched in amazement, but their amazement quickly turned to fear.

Now Rochelle AND Nick are going to die and they've gotta watch it happen.

Rochelle still fought as much as she could against the Tank. Her ammo had run out and took to using her pistol. The Tank smashed her to the pavement once more and the pistol flew from her hand. She still fought.

She bit into its fleshy arm, kicked, squirmed, even though every movement only caused massive electric pain that coursed throughout her entire body.

Then she saw Nick.

She was angry; Very angry.

Nick had a molotov stashed in his coat pocket. He pulled it out, lit it, and threw it at the Tank. In response to the burns, it quickly dropped Rochelle and locked onto Nick, running straight for him despite being on fire. Nick pulled out his sniper rifle and continuously shot the raging infected. As it got closer to him, it began slowing down. Not wanting to waste ammo, Nick got his frying pan and assaulted the Tank head-on until it collapsed to the ground.

Nick walked over the Tank's deformed flesh to Rochelle and helped her up.

She was just about to yell at him when she heard the copter begin to take off.

"God DAMMIT, NICK!" She screamed as she snatched his arm and dragged him away.

"What the hell are you doing, Rochelle? There's no way we're going to make it now!" Nick protested.

"I'm not heading for the copter, shit for brains!" She retorted, limping as quickly as she could to the manhole at the end of the bridge, "They're gonna blow this shit up to kingdom come we need to get the hell out of here!"

"Well we're not going to get anywhere at that pace." He replied, with the slightest smirk on his face.

"I am NOT letting you carry me, Nick. I can walk on my own."

But that didn't stop him from doing it.

She stared angrily at his face, studying him with an intense hatred.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Busy admiring the handsome face of your savior?" Nick asked smugly.

"Now is really not the fucking time for this shit, Nick." Rochelle answered between gritted teeth.

They reached the manhole and Nick gently set her down. Both hurriedly climbed down the ladder as the bridge behind them exploded. Crumbling bits and chunks of street fell into the water below.

Rochelle, though she was entirely pissed off by Nick's heroism, had to admit she was happy to still be alive, and obviously at least a little grateful to him.

She could hear and feel him breathing heavily beside her. There wasn't must space, so they had to be crammed together.

It was completely dark and she couldn't see a thing.

She took this opportunity to express her gratitude in the most subtle and hopefully most unnoticed way possible.

She gently rested her head against his chest as they waited for the rumbling to subside, just to be sure it was safe to emerge.

He felt her against him, but didn't say anything about it.

He could understand why she was so upset.

If that were him dying out there, he would have wanted everyone to leave him and save themselves too; Not risk their lives saving him and fucking their own life over as well.

In the very least, he could let her have this moment without any of his sass.

He knew as soon as they crawled from that sewer, it was going to be an entirely different experience.

May as well enjoy this final gesture of appreciation and peace before it all went to hell again.


End file.
